Yes, it makes perfect sense that Oz do would it.
(edit - good lord, I wonder why I even bother to pretend that I can compose a coherent sentence)
'Trash'
Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
Yes, it makes perfect sense that Oz do would it.
(edit - good lord, I wonder why I even bother to pretend that I can compose a coherent sentence)
DUDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(speechless)
manomanomanomanoman.
Victor, WOW.
Ditto on all of the above.
Are you sure there are only a few left?
Catching up. Whoo! Such good stuff. Lots and lots of great stuff, everybody!
connie, I completely misread your post and thought that there was a new installment and went and read it and now, though I enjoy the story, am all angry and wanting.
I'm writing, I promise I am. Pain, angst, blood, suffering, really.
see?
Joyce watched Xander up on the wall and frowned. There was something in his eyes that worried her. Through all the adventures of life in Sunnydale, Xander had never lost the spark of humor. It may have been overlaid with pain or stress or weariness, but it had been there, if only in the awareness that it was not the appropriate time for whatever quip he'd just thought up.
That was gone now. All that was in his eyes was pain and loss. The optimism that had survived vampires and betrayals and whatever private griefs haunted him from his pre-Buffy life had finally gone under to one too many losses.
Sister Agnes was watching as well. "I didn't know they were to be married."
"Neither did I. I don't think anyone did. He was probably waiting till after we finished with Glory to ask her. I'm worried about him. He's just started having things work out for him, and now this."
"But Anya lives."
"Yes, but--she's changed. She was so wanting a normal life, she talked of children and growing old with him. Now . . ."
Sister Agnes nodded. "If she'd died, he could mourn her. Instead he'll see her and wonder if things can ever be the same."
Willow stood nearby, wringing her hands. "I don't want to take down the shield," she whispered. "I know what he's going to do. How do I stop him?"
"Can you mess up the rifle somehow?" Joyce asked.
"I don't know enough about how guns work, all I can think to do is make it blow up, and that would hurt him. What do I do?" She suddenly gasped and went to her knees. The air around the convent glowed white for half a second, then faded. "Oh, oh . . . ow . . ."
Sister Agnes helped her up. "Nina, what was that?"
"Counter . . . spell, those monks--they're trying to bring down the shield." She cried out as the shield flared again
Xander saw this from the wall. "Willow! Willow, take it down! I can stop them!" Spike poked at the air above the wall and muttered curses.
Willow let Sister Agnes hold her up as she gasped. "Nina, this is hurting you. Bring it down before they rip it from you."
"But Xander--"
"Must do as he will. You can do nothing for him if you let them injure you."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Disperse," she said, waving her hand. "It's down."
Spike, still poking the air, felt his hand slip through. "We're on." He slipped into his fangs and grinned.
Xander stared at him a moment, then out at the soldiers. The monks had staggered back, holding their heads, but their leader spoke urgently to General Gregor, who straightened triumphantly. Xander took a deep breath, then let it out. "Yipee ki-yay," he said, and nodded at Spike. Spike nodded back.
Xander flipped the selector switch to full auto and jumped to his feet. He sprayed the full clip at the feet of the soldiers, not caring too dreadfully much if he got a little close. With a howl of delight, Spike vaulted over the wall. The screams soon followed.
Oh.
Ow.
Wonderful, connie!
Victor, I loved the latest installment of your story, and loved the way you re-introduced Oz and Connor. I'm going to have to go back and re-read this thing from the beginning.